


caught up in a rush, it's killing you

by Lady_Anonymia



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: But then they were kind of soft, Don't let the softness fool you tho, F/M, I didn't mean to write them as soft, I don't know how to describe this story, I love both of them, I swear the story is better than the tags, Inspired by Kill Jacksepticeye, M/M, My demon bois, They'd both stab a bitch and not even care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-13 01:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11749269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Anonymia/pseuds/Lady_Anonymia
Summary: Lost in thoughts of bloodlust and violence, Anti doesn’t hear the whoosh of air as another being manifests itself in the room. Anti has a hand on the knob of the door when a large hand grabs his shoulder tightly and whirls him around. Anti's instinct kicks in before he registers what has a hand on him, and he realizes he has his blade of pressed against the gray throat of none other than Darkiplier.Dark comes to keep Anti from doing anything he'll regret later.





	caught up in a rush, it's killing you

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it seems it's come to this.  
> Honestly, after I saw the Kill Jacksepticeye video, I was like, "Glitch Bitch needs to calm down, and I know exactly who could help with that." And then I wrote this at 1 in the morning.  
> Un-beta'd because my beta reader has been MIA for a few days. _Bonne chance, mes amis._  
>  Oh! The title is from "Other Side of Paradise" by Glass Animals. It doesn't really have to do with the story, I've just been listening to Glass Animals a lot recently :-P

_A̷͡n̨͝d͢ ̷f̴̧o͟r̢̛͝ ̶̧̨y͞o̴͟u͝҉͢!_

_͠T͘h̵͘i̸̛s҉̸̶ ҉is̨͏̧n͏'҉̸t o̵v̴ȩ͢r̕.̷_

_̛͟I҉ ̵҉w̡͏ond͝e̴҉͘r̕͞ ̨̧w̶͠h̡͡at̸̢ ͢w͏̡i̛͝l̷҉l͝ ̛happ̕͠e҉̧̛n͏̧ ̡͟to҉ ҉̡y͟ou͜ŗ͝ ͘͝͡f̡͡a̷v͝͞o̷͢ŗ̛i̴̢ţ̶e̴ b̶̸o͜y ̵͏ņ͘ex̨t̨ ti̸͏me͠?_

_Th̸į͡s̨̕ ̨is҉͠n̸'͜t҉̧ ̡t͘h̶̕e͠ ͡e͠nd̸͝.̧͘_

_͟Sę͟e̢̡ ̸̨͡y͏̢o̷̧͝u̵ ̶͡s̵o̸̶o̷̸͞n̶̵͠!͡_

  
Anti is furious, his form glitching erratically and his movements sharp and aborted. He’s so sick of the treatment he’s been receiving recently, the way that Jack’s followers— _dumb little sheep_ , Anti thinks, lip curling—have ridiculed and satirized him. In his rage, he’s reopened the ragged wound on his neck, streaming fresh blood down his pale throat. Anti drags a finger through the crimson and traces the blade of his knife with it. It’s so beautiful with blood on it, and he wonders with a manic glee how much prettier it would be sheathed in someone's stomach.

Jack's girlfriend is still home, right? She’d be the perfect victim—much smaller and weaker than Anti. She’s got quite a pair of lungs on her, Anti recalls, but he has no problem cutting those out of her.

Lost in thoughts of bloodlust and violence, Anti doesn’t hear the whoosh of air as another being manifests itself in the room. Anti has a hand on the knob of the door when a large hand grabs his shoulder tightly and whirls him around. Anti's instinct kicks in before he registers what has a hand on him, and he realizes he has his blade of pressed against the gray throat of none other than Darkiplier. Dark has a strong hold on both of Anti’s wrists, holding the knife still and looking like he really couldn’t care less.

"Why are you here?" Anti snarls. Normally, he'd be pleased to see the other demon, but right now Dark is keeping him from doing something he so desperately needs to do.

"You need to calm down before you do something you regret," Dark says calmly, despite the imminent injury the knife presents. "Drop the knife."

"How did you even know what I was doin'?" Anti asks, trying to glitch away from Dark and finding himself unable to. Stupid high-ranking demons and their stupid advantages over him.

"I like to keep an eye on people. Make sure they aren't...acting rashly," Dark responds, squeezing Anti's wrist a little to emphasize his point. Anti can feel the bones shifting under the pressure.

"You can't fuckin' tell me what to do," Anti hisses, tugging fruitlessly at his other hand so he can punch Dark in the chest or something. Not because he’s mad—Anti’s fury is often short-lived, and now that Dark is here the red in his eyes has cleared—but Anti would never pass up a chance to give Dark a hard time for no good reason.

With no change in expression, Dark brings Anti's hand from his neck to his lips, closing his eyes as he presses against the harsh, strong pulse that beats at his wrist.

"Drop the knife, Anti," Dark rumbles against his skin, looking through half-lidded eyes, and Anti shivers ever so slightly.

"Make me," Anti challenges, his tone hinting at an ulterior motive.

"If you insist," Dark murmurs. He drops Anti's other hand and brings his own to Anti's face. The kiss is gentle at first, as Dark inches the hand on Anti's wrist down to his hand. Then Dark starts squeezing.

As the pressure on Anti's knuckles builds, Dark draws Anti closer to him. Anti parts his lips, allowing Dark to deepen the kiss. Dark takes Anti apart in his slow, methodical way, skimming his hand teasingly along Anti's sides, until Anti is gasping for air like he's drowning.

The pain in his hand and the pleasant tingling spreading through him from Dark's attentions is enough to make Anti's hand open. The knife falls to the carpeted floor with a dull clatter, and Dark’s mouth moves downwards, rubbing his hands up and down Anti's exposed arms.

"Sorry about that, kitten," Dark breathes against Anti's neck, nosing at the space under his jaw. Anti purrs a little at the nickname, threading the fingers of his aching hand in Dark's thick hair.

Dark presses his lips against Anti's again and Anti moans quietly, grabbing Dark’s jacket and attaching himself to the other in an attempt to get more contact. For a demon of such a cold demeanor, Dark's body was always incredibly warm, and Anti can feel the waves of heat coming off of the other demon.

Anti pushes his tongue into Dark's mouth, trying to elicit a sound from the other demon and receiving nothing. Determined, Anti bites at Dark's bottom lip savagely. Dark's breathing stutters, and Anti smirks inwardly. Despite the intensity of his feelings, Dark rarely shows emotion, and Anti relishes being able to break the cold, detached shell that surrounds him. 

Anti is more than ready for Dark to lay him out on an available flat surface and fuck him until he can't walk, but Dark (reluctantly?) detaches himself from Anti's tight grip. Anti whines.

"You always come in here to tease me and then you leave," Anti pouted. He crosses his arms, sulking. "S'not fair."

"I came to calm you down. I do have other matters to attend to," Dark says, putting some distance between them and smoothing out his jacket. Anti notices with a sort of pride that the indentations his fingers made in Dark's jacket are still visible.

"Didn’t do a very good job calmin’ me down, didya?" Anti asks innocently. He glitches forwards to Dark, draping his arms over Dark's shoulders and looking up into his uncovered black eye.

"Mmm," Dark agrees, setting his hands on Anti's hips. He presses their foreheads together, rocking in a simple dance. "You know you're still going to have to pretend to be Jack, right? Your little tantrum didn’t do much."

Anti huffs indignantly and buries his face in the crook of Dark's neck, breathing in Dark's strange scent of dark chocolate, roses, and damp earth. "Why can't I just leave with you?"

"We both know Jack isn’t actually dead." Dark's breath dances over Anti's skin. "Until you’re powerful enough to separate from him, you’re risking your life every time you show your face. Even now, you're fighting with him, aren't you?"

Dark is right, as per usual. Anti can feel Jack beating mercilessly at the walls of his mental jail cell, scrabbling for his body back. Anti's increased "visits", instead of weakening Jack like he had hoped, had only made Jack's will to live stronger.

Dark cards a hand through Anti's hair soothingly, and Anti's mismatched eyes drift closed. "I know you're close, Anti. I can feel your personalities splitting, even now. You'll have your own body sooner than you think."

"And _then_ we can butcher some people?" Anti asks, nuzzling into Dark's throat.

"I'll save a French knife just for you, kitten," Dark says, and Anti can feel the rare smile on Dark's face. Dark pulls Anti up by his hair gently, moving his hands to hold Anti's, and his smile is gone.

"I know you're getting frustrated, but I need you to be patient," Dark says, as Anti blinks his eyes back open. "This kind of thing takes time."

Anti nods slowly, his mind still fogged with Dark's heady scent. "I'll try not to kill anyone else 'til then," he says cheekily, “but no promises.”

Dark brings Anti's hand to his lips and kisses it, as is his customary goodbye, before letting it drop and dissolving into a black mist. Anti watches the mist dissipate with a bittersweet fondness.

"Seán," Anti hears Jack's girlfriend call from downstairs, "the pizza's here. Are you done recording?"

Anti clears his throat. "Yeah, just gimme a second to clean up," he replies.

He hates everything about this routine: working his way out of Jack's well-protected psyche; announcing his triumph to the world; losing control of his shared body; living through the dull, murder-free life of his host until he can get a hand on the controls again.

But Anti trusts Dark more than anyone else. As loathe as Anti is to admit it, Dark has been around for much longer than he has: this is the sort of thing that Dark would know about. Anti isn't the trusting type, especially not with other demons, but something about Dark intrigued him, drew him in until Anti found himself completely at Dark's mercy. The thought of being vulnerable and open to someone like that is enough to make Anti anxious, but Dark has (surprisingly) never betrayed Anti's trust in him, even returning his growing affections. He couldn't really define their relationship, but whatever it is, Anti's perfectly happy with it.

 _Just a little while longer_ , Anti thinks, idly rubbing the fingers that Dark kissed. They're still warm. _Be patient_.

Anti takes a deep breath, removing his plugs and setting them on Jack's desk. Immediately he can feel his hold on his body slipping: the plugs are one of Anti's anchors, and without them it's much easier for Jack to regain control.

"I'm comin' down, Woosh," Anti hears Jack say, as he looks in a mirror and tries to make his hair lay down somewhat. In the blue of Jack's eyes, Anti sees the tiniest flecks of green still left behind.

 _Soon, Dark,_ Anti grins to himself. _Very soon._

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure: I really love this ship. Like, a lot. And quite honestly I'm disappointed with the amount of Danti fanfic available, so I figured I'd add something to the pile. If you have any Danti fic recommendations (ficcomendations?), please share; I need to feed my addiction.  
> P.S. If the kisses seem awkward, it's because I don't write romantic scenes, like, ever. If you have any advice on how to write a kiss scene without wanting to bang your head against a wall, PLEASE share. Bless.  
> Kudos and comments are appreciated and (as always) I hope you enjoyed the story!


End file.
